


Tell Me That This Was The Right Mistake

by QuillMind



Series: Angstentine's Day 2017 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Break Up, M/M, Sad Ending, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9611228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: At the end of the Grand Prix Finals, Yuri decided to retire.  He returned to Japan, Viktor returned to figure skating.  A year later, Viktor sends him a very personal message.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Since this time of year is so filled with fluff, I figured why not balance it out with some good ol' angst? I'm not super confident in my ability to write genuinely gripping angst, so I hope this doesn't turn out to be a failure of a project, but I hope you'll enjoy(?)!
> 
> A key inspiration to this is ["Found Someone" by TastyTreat feat. Tribes,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIZDx_fJXkM) which has been my song obsession for weeks now! This series would not exist without it!

A year since the Grand Prix Finals. 

A year since Yuri had made the decision to retire. 

He knew full well that he was a resented figure by many as the one who'd monopolized Viktor Nikiforov, the one who'd taken the brightest star of men's figure skating away from the world.  And although Viktor himself hadn't said so, Yuri knew that the five-time champion missed being on the rink as a competitor.  Compared to someone like him who screwed up his programs all too easily when emotionally shaken, Viktor was the far more valuable asset to figure skating.  He might not appreciate it now, but this was what was best for everyone. 

That was what Yuri told himself.  So he had no reason, no right, to feel upset about any of it. 

In reality, though, things were not so easy.  His return to Hasetsu had been somber and quiet, with no one bombarding him with questions or consolation, just silent understanding and sad looks.  His parents gently told him that he could take as much time as he needed, but instead he asked to start working at the hot springs again as soon as possible.  He knew that he had to keep himself busy.  Yuko called several times to ask if he wanted to visit the rink for a little bit, but he always refused.  It was a world he was no longer a part of.  It was Viktor's world. 

Months and months of living on autopilot, no longer listening to music, running early in the morning, or doing stretches diligently.  There were no more dietary restrictions, so Yuri ate as many pork cutlet bowls as he felt like, even though they always tasted bland and unfulfilling.  He gained weight again, but didn't care, since he spent all his free hours wearing sweats and other loose clothing, anyway. 

Surprisingly, he had done quite well at not caving to the temptation of hounding Viktor via social media.  One of the first things he'd done upon after coming home was removing his former coach from Instagram and other platforms, so that he could avoid him as much as possible.  He still followed the ones he was closer to, like Phichit, but none of the Thai skater's cheer and bright enthusiasm ever transcended his photos to catch onto Yuri.  Colours were dull, and finding something funny enough to make him laugh was a sky-high bar to clear. 

It was one afternoon when he'd been lying in bed all day that he decided to turn on the TV.  It was a shame one couldn't be selective about when his luck would peak or hit rock bottom, because seriously, what were the odds that he would be on the right channel to catch Viktor's free program performance at the Grand Prix Finals? 

He should have turned off the TV.  Should have gone outside, gone to get food, take a shower, do anything else, but Yuri remained rooted to his mattress as he sat up and watched Viktor gliding onto the rink. 

His hair had grown a little longer, brushing past his shoulders like silver feathers.  He had always been fit and lean, but he looked a little thinner than before, and there was a numb quality to his expression that Yuri was intimately familiar with.  Unlike the past glitzy, sparkly costumes that he was known for, this time he had chosen an incredibly simple look: a large white t-shirt with dark grey pants that mimicked the appearance of jeans--real denim tended to be too constricting to skate in.  By showing up in such casual clothing, he gave off a poignantly raw, stripped-down aura. 

"And here we have Viktor Nikiforov, having returned to skating after a year's absence to try his hand at coaching.  For his free program, his music is 'Found Someone' by TastyTreat.'" 

It was not a track Yuri was familiar with.  There was a piano in the opening, and Viktor began to spin out of his starting pose to the gentle rhythm.  Once he'd built up speed, he shot himself into the air, and landed a flawless triple Salchow, triple toe, triple loop combination jump on the exact moment a beat announced itself to the music. 

The track was downtempo, and not exactly something one would first think of when coming up with music for figure skating, but Viktor did owe a large part of his popularity to his constantly tackling the unexpected.  The beat was inconsistent and suited to R&B dance, something difficult to translate to skating since most of the quick and complex footwork that identified the discipline conflicted with the need to steadily glide over the ice.  It made the program incredibly draining as he had to move twice as much to faithfully match his gestures and sharp turns to the beat, but Viktor had found a way to make it work. 

Yuri could never have come up with a program like this.  He doubted he could skate it either, even if he had kept in shape and continued practicing.  That was the difference between him and Viktor.  _This was the way things should be_ , he thought.  Neither the world nor Viktor deserved to be chained to a fragile weakling like himself.  The needle-like pain in his chest was his just desserts for keeping the brilliant athlete and artist all to himself for as long as he had. 

Equally as compelling as the grueling yet amazing choreography was the emotion being conveyed by Viktor.  Since the moment the music had begun, the earlier neutrality from his face had vanished, replaced with a mournful look of sorrow that echoed the sentiments of the song. 

 

_You left my heart in cold waters_

_Forgot what I was running from,_

_Dust off your shame_

_Can we start over?_

_I just want to be in your arms again_

_And let the danger tear us apart_

 

Yuri's limbs turned to stone.  These lyrics...  This song, this program...  It was a message to _him_ , from Viktor.  This was not ego speaking--he just _knew_ that this was all directed at him.  

"Viktor has given us many incredible performances throughout his career, but this one seems particularly powerful, doesn't it?" the co-announcer commented. 

"Yes, he declined to go into detail about what brought it about, though he did make the rather enigmatic comment that it was 'inspired by real life,' so you can really feel that this is something personal." 

Amidst the racing of his heart, Yuri frowned as he noticed something.  There were several instances in Viktor's performance where his gestures and movements appeared different.  For the spiral he transitioned to, he had his palm raised to the sky, and he was looking upward in its general direction with a rueful smile.  During the step sequences, he focused specifically on a space a few feet in front of him, looking especially wistful when he did. 

"There is something a little unique about this program." 

"Yes, for example here during the sit spin--you'll notice that he puts his arm out while the other is straight behind him, almost as if he's doing a death spiral." 

The realization was a serrated knife dipped in acid twisting its way into Yuri's insides.  Viktor had incorporated elements of pair skating into his program.  The upturned palm during his spiral was meant to simulate a lift.  Without his partner present, however, it made the whole performance that much more melancholy and heartbreaking, drawing the audience and judges in.

 

_Help me 'cause I cannot wait to move on_

_Loving you just wasn't good enough_

_Trying to find what we lost_

_And I can't find your love_

 

"And here it comes--a quadruple lutz!" 

"He landed it!  Beautiful!" 

Viktor didn't miss a single step, didn't flub a single jump.  When he finished and froze in his finishing pose, his body was heaving with exhausted breaths, his face flushed and dripping with sweat, his eyes watery. 

The crowd was on their feet with a standing ovation, and their cheers rang out in the rink.  Some camera close-ups showed that many of them were covering their mouths or wiping their eyes. 

"What an incredible performance!" the announcer said enthusiastically.  "This might very well be the best of Viktor Nikiforov's career!  A heart-wrenching program that made the whole crowd relate to the sense of a love lost!" 

The announcer and his co-host kept talking, but Yuri could no longer see them.  His glasses fogged up so he pulled them off, and the motion caused the huge reservoir of tears to spill from his hot eyes.  The drops struck the bed with hard _tap-tap-tap_ sounds. 

"Viktor, you idiot," he sobbed, not caring that his nose was running, his head pounded, or that his eyes burned.  Old wounds that had been scarred over were torn open wider than before, and he felt utterly broken. 

"You once called me selfish... But you're just as good at being cruel."

Sinking into a ball, with the covers smothering him to resemble a duvet hill, he buried his face into the pillow and wailed as loud as he could.  At the cost of his throat's well-being, the TV noise distorted and faded into the background, so much so that Viktor setting a new personal best and getting a near-perfect score was information that Yuri did not find out until much later, as well as confirmation of becoming a six-time Grand Prix gold medalist. 

By the time Yuri got out of bed, the TV was showing the late night newscast.  He wordlessly trudged over to his desk and pulled open the drawer to retrieve a tiny, plain box stuffed under some notebooks and paper.  Only once he crawled back into the sanctuary of his bed did he unfurl his fingers to look at the wide gold band that he'd gotten as a matching set for himself and Viktor one year ago.  He hadn't looked at it since he returned to Japan. 

The temptation to slip the ring back onto his finger was excruciating.  Yuri could still remember how perfectly it fit him, how perfect that moment had been when he gave Viktor his ring, and how warm his hand was even in the winter night. 

 _I chose this_ , he reminded himself.  _This is what I wanted._  

He held on tightly to the ring as he cried himself to sleep.


End file.
